Bittersweet
by Someone aka Me
Summary: "And the memories all taste so bittersweet." THREESHOT, Remus/Sirius. Christmas Eve, 1992, 1993, and 1994.
1. December 24, 1992

For the Slashy Marauders Holiday Competition.

I own nothing.

~*RLSB*~

_December 24, 1992_

_Remus Lupin_

It's Christmas Eve. It's Christmas Eve, and yet, for Remus Lupin, it's just another day of the year. Granted, the new moon is kind of nice. Stuck halfway in between full moons, the new moon is always when Remus feels most like himself.

But, as has been true for the past eleven years, it doesn't much matter how Remus feels. He's alone, as usual. He's alone in the teeny-tiny rundown flat in the crappy neighborhood that he calls home, for the sole reason that it's all that he can afford. Wizards don't hire werewolves, and Muggles don't like employees who get sick all the time. Routinely.

So, yeah. It's Christmas Eve, and maybe that makes him a bit more melancholy than usual. Maybe that makes him miss James, miss Lily, miss Peter, and (Merlin, his heart just doesn't get it, does it?) even miss Sirius. No. Miss Sirius most of all.

He knows he shouldn't. The man he loves is a mass murderer who betrayed his best friend, sold him out to Voldemort. But Remus's heart doesn't understand what his head knows. Remus's heart just wants Sirius back.

Merlin, even the stupid beast in his head wants Padfoot back. Moony knew what Padfoot meant to Remus.

Remus shakes his head. He's a logical person, normally. But, as has always been the case, logic goes out the window when Sirius is involved.

And the memories all taste so bittersweet.

He can see it all so clearly in his mind, still. The sweet spring days when they were still at Hogwarts, sprawled out on the grass – the two of them, or the four of them, or sometimes even the five of them, when Lily was in the mood.

Then Hogwarts ended, and what Remus had thought was just going to be a schoolboy romance didn't end, and Sirius asked Remus to move in with him, and they got their own apartment, and Remus felt bad for not contributing but Sirius said that it was the best feeling in the world, supporting the both of them, because it was something his parents told him he'd never be able to do, so Remus didn't object. And some part of him knew that Sirius was partly just saying that because he didn't want Remus to feel bad, but that just made him love Sirius more.

And the little one-bedroom apartment wasn't grand, but it was good enough for them. And back then, there was no doubt. There was no suspicion, not between them, not at first.

But then that stupid meeting happened, the one Remus wishes he could erase entirely. The meeting with Dumbledore, when he told them that Lily and James were a target because of baby Harry. The meeting where Dumbledore said that one of them, one of the five of them, was – inadvertently or not – leaking information to Voldemort.

And that was when the cracks started forming. That was when suspicion started leaking in.

But Remus loved Sirius, and didn't want to suspect him. And that love didn't fade, even as Remus realized there was no one else _to _suspect. James was a target, and it could never be Peter. And, of course, he knew it wasn't himself.

Still, as logical as it seemed, Remus's heart (his stupid, stupid heart) could never believe that Sirius wasn't trustworthy.

And his stupid heart still doesn't believe it. Eleven years later, and his stupid heart still doesn't believe it, even with the evidence. Sirius slaughtered twelve Muggles and Peter in broad daylight. He betrayed James and Lily – and baby Harry. And Remus's stupid heart protests, because it claims to know that Sirius loved baby Harry. Remus flatly informs it that murderers don't love.

But what does that mean for him? he wonders. If a murderer can't love, does that mean that every kiss was a lie? And Remus can't believe that. His heart can't believe it, but neither can his head. Because, fact is, Sirius can't lie to Remus. He can lie (and has lied) to everyone he knows – except Remus. Remus takes one look at Sirius, and if he's lying, Sirius starts to stutter and stammer and sweat. He can make up an elaborate tale on the spot for a teacher – he's talked his way out of hundreds of detentions – but Sirius can't lie to Remus.

So then, Remus wonders, how on Earth did he not realize that Sirius was the spy? And that's where his stupid, stupid heart tries to go against everything that Remus knows is true and say he wasn't, he wasn't the spy, because Remus would have _known_.

But he didn't, and it doesn't matter anymore, because nothing can change the fact that the man he's still in love with (damn his stupid, stupid heart) is in Azkaban, where he belongs, and Remus is alone on Christmas.

~*RLSB*~

_December 24, 1992_

_Sirius Black_

He shivers. His teeth chatter. He curses the Dementors for what feels like the millionth time. His robes are thin and the stones are cold and he doesn't even know what day it is anymore.

He tries to grasp onto the elusive memories that sit, taunting him, at the edge of his consciousness. They feel warm. He can't quite reach them, though, so he settles himself with the dark memories, because that's all he's got left.

He remembers the last days, the days of suspicion and despair. He remembers his stupid, stupid decision to switch to Peter because, when it comes down to it, he's a cowardly self-preservationist at heart. He remembers walking into the ruins in Godric's Hollow, tears streaming down his face. _'Blacks don't cry,'_ he'd told himself, but apparently that doesn't count for ex-Blacks, because the tears didn't stop. He'd lost his best friend, and it was all his fault. He'd closed James's eyes, gently. He'd repaired the glasses that'd cracked, somehow. He'd tried to clear the rubble before realizing it was fruitless. Then came the baby's wail.

But there, the memory fades. The last of it is like billions of loose threads that he can't weave together into a picture, because finding Harry, that's too much of a happy memory.

He shivers again. What he really wants – what he's wanted for so long – is to tell Remus. He wants to see Remus's warm brown eyes light up with understanding and, maybe if he's lucky, love.

He wants things to go back to how they were. But that's not going to happen. Still, he'll settle for having Remus in his arms once more.

Here, though, in this place, Sirius isn't allowed to daydream about a happier future. The thoughts are sucked away before he can even properly think them.

He shivers again. Merlin, he'd like to be warm.


	2. December 24, 1993

_December 24, 1993_

_Remus Lupin_

Christmas Eve again, but this year is different. Different in a good way, though, Remus thinks.

He's got a stable job, for who knows how long, but for right now, and that's what matters. He's got a place to live, and, best of all, he's got Wolfsbane. That potion is a lifesaver – perhaps more literally than he'd like.

That's not the only reason this year is better, though. Sirius isn't in Azkaban anymore. This fact, Remus thinks, should probably terrify him. It doesn't, though. It elates him, because, honestly, the thought of Sirius suffering constantly at the hands of the Dementors is agonizing to Remus. And, Remus thinks, no one's died yet, so perhaps Sirius is reformed. That, or he's just far too dedicated to killing Harry.

But Remus would rather not think about that.

His stupid, traitorous heart beats faster at the thought of Sirius in Hogwarts, but it's not out of fear. And Remus can't help himself from imagining how it would feel to have Sirius's arms around him once more.

He's sick. He's a sick, terrible person. Sirius is a _traitor_, a _murderer_, and Remus can't stop himself from loving him. Merlin, he's an awful excuse for a human being.

Still, as he sits alone on the couch in his quarters at Hogwarts, he wonders where Sirius is. He wonders if he's okay. And he hopes against hope that Sirius can stay free, because, despite himself, Remus doesn't want to see Sirius lose his soul.

He's not honestly sure why the thought of that terrifies him as much as it does. It's not like Sirius has even been a part of his life for the past twelve years. Yet the thought of a world without Sirius in it – not just no Sirius in his life, but no Sirius at all – is horrifying to Remus. He can't bear the thought of Sirius no longer existing.

And he hates himself for that.

He honestly hates himself. He hates himself for having no willpower, for being _weak_. If he was stronger, he could get over it. He could accept the fact that Sirius is, as his initials say, a SOB, and move on with his life.

But he's not stronger, and his stupid, stubborn heart can't stop loving Sirius despite it all.

So he sits alone on his couch and hopes with all of his being that Sirius is okay; he hopes for a murderer to stay free. And he hates himself, but he still loves Sirius. And it's Christmas Eve, and Remus's grownup Christmas wish this year is just that Sirius is safe.

~*RLSB*~

_December 24, 1993_

_Sirius Black_

He's jumpy, as he always is in someone else's house. He knows full well that the Muggle lady who lives here isn't due to be home for months – he wouldn't be here otherwise – but he still feels skittish and uncomfortable, being in her house. Still, he can't live his whole life as a dog – too long, and he starts to lose his human mind, and that's terrifying.

So he deals with the anxiety, and he spends a couple weeks in empty Muggle houses.

Today's different, though. Today, he actually knows the date, because he's actually done something _real_ – terrifyingly so. He still can't believe that he, as Padfoot, waltzed into a Post Office and bought his godson a Firebolt for Christmas. It's the Gryffindor in him, he supposes.

The Gryffindor that only comes out when it's safe, that is. The Gryffindor that's a coward when it matters.

But it's Christmas Eve, and Sirius doesn't want to spend Christmas hating himself for a mistake he made so many years ago. He's spent enough time – _yet not enough time, because it can never be enough time –_ hating himself for that decision already.

"I'm sorry, James," he murmurs hoarsely. He's long ago lost count of how many times he's apologized.

But it's Christmas, and Sirius wants to occupy himself with happy thoughts – because he _can_. So he does. He envisions Harry (though he's not entirely sure what Harry looks like – it was dark, that day in Magnolia Crescent, and he only caught a quick glimpse – Sirius pictures thirteen-year-old James with emerald eyes) opening the wrapping on the top-of-the-line racing broom. He imagines those emerald eyes lighting up with delight (because, of course, Harry must be as much of a Quidditch fanatic as James was). He imagines Harry going straight out to the pitch, not bothering to get dressed, so eager to try it out.

Sirius smiles at the image. He wants so desperately for Harry to know the truth.

But then he sighs, because Harry isn't the only one that he wants so desperately to know the truth. _Remus_.

But the memories all taste so bittersweet.

He can remember, now, the sweet spring days, when the sun would shine but the air would taste like rain. He remembers the simple days, oh-so-long ago, when everything was effortless and uncomplicated. And all of those sweet memories are just out of reach, because Sirius knows in his heart that they can't ever goes back to that.

Even if they can reforge a relationship out of the ashes, Sirius knows, it won't ever be the same as it was. They're not sixteen anymore. They're no longer naïve – they're jaded. They've seen the world in all it's cruelty now, and they don't expect perfection anymore. They don't believe in perfection, anymore.

But Sirius doesn't want perfection. He just wants Remus. He wants to be able to hold Remus in his arms and tell him that even if it's not going to be okay, even if the world is a disaster, _they'll_ be okay, because all they've ever needed is each other. He wants to fall asleep knowing that, when he wakes up, Remus will be there.

He wants to be warm again. He's been so cold for so long, and he wants to be warm again.


	3. December 24, 1994

_Note: There has been a title change. This piece is now titled "Bittersweet"_

_December 24, 1994_

_Remus Lupin_

This year, Remus feels lighter than he has in a long time, but it's not because it's Christmas Eve. No, he's felt lighter for seven months now. Ever since he found out that his heart (his brilliant, brilliant heart) was right to never let go. Ever since he found out that Sirius was innocent.

And somehow, in light of that fact, Remus hardly minds packing up and leaving the best job he's ever known, because that fact just doesn't seem to matter.

_Sirius is innocent_.

The fact crosses his mind every day, and every day it's like a new revelation. Remus feels positively buoyant.

It scares him, a little bit, how much it matters to him that Sirius is _out there somewhere_. He's not even _here_, but he's _out there_, and that means an exceptional amount to Remus.

He inhales the rich scent of the mug of hot chocolate he clutches in his hands, soaking in the blissful warmth. He can see, clear as day, Sirius sitting next to him at the little table, laughing that barking laugh of his and teasing Remus for his chocolate addiction. For the first time in a long time, the image doesn't make him feel guilty.

He smiles softly, serenely. He feels remarkably… peaceful. Honestly, the only thing that could make this moment better would be Sirius on his doorstop.

A knock sounds at the door.

~*RLSB*~

_December 24, 1994_

_Sirius Black_

He's cold. Great Merlin, he forgot how much colder Britain is than the tropics. He wades up the street, wishing he'd remembered to ask exactly where the place is located. He knows the vague area, and he knows what the outside looks like from a memory he saw in a low quality Pensieve, but he wasn't really sure where to Apparate to, so now he's wandering up the street, looking at all the houses.

His eyes light up as he finds it.

Still, it's with some apprehension that he climbs the steps.

He knocks. Moments later, Remus answers the door. Sirius can't keep the broad grin off of his face. "Hey, Moony."

Remus blinks, shocked. "Padfoot?"

"The one, the only!" He pauses for a moment, but Remus appears frozen. "Rem? Could I, y'know, come in? Only, it's a bit cold."

"Oh, of course, of course!" Remus steps back, letting Sirius in. "Have a seat." He waves absently at the dining room table. "Hot chocolate or tea? I've coffee, but it's late."

Sirius shrugs. "Has that ever stopped me before?"

Remus laughs lightly. "I suppose not. Coffee, then?"

Sirius nods, and Remus puts the pot on for coffee. He sits at the table as they wait for it to brew. It's feels like there's a monolithic _something_ between them, and that _something_ is stopping the words that want so desperately to come rushing out. Sirius drums his fingers absently.

The coffee finishes brewing, and Remus leaps up and pours a cup. "Black, I assume?" he says. It's always been a point of amusement between them.

Sirius nods, grinning. Remus sets the cup in front of him, muttering, "Some things never change."

Sirius wraps his long fingers around the warm cup. "But some things do," he says, his voice laced with faint sadness.

"Some things do," Remus agrees.

Hoarsely, Sirius murmurs, "I don't want this to change, Remus. I don't want us to change."

"I know. But there are some things that cannot be forgotten."

Sirius closes his eyes, sighing. "I know that. Trust me, I know. There are things… There are things I will always regret. There are always going to be things I wish I could undo. But I can't undo switching with _him_. I can't undo suspecting you. Just like you can't undo suspecting…" But Sirius won't finish the sentence. "I don't want to presume that I know what you went through, what you thought."

Remus smiles lightly. "Well that's different from how you used to be." Sirius smiles in agreement. But Remus hesitates in responding. "I'm not going to pretend that I didn't suspect you. I'm not going to pretend that the thought never crossed my mind. But I think some part of me could never believe… Could never believe that you would ever hurt James. Some part of me found that too hard to believe. And that same part of me… It couldn't let you go. I never – not once – stopped loving you. I fully intended to hate you. I _wanted _to hate you. But I couldn't. I love you too much."

A warmth starts in the middle of Sirius's chest in some undefinable place. It spreads to the tips of his extremities, and it has nothing to do with the coffee.

"I never stopped loving you, either," he says roughly. "Even on the days when the Dementors were too close and I couldn't remember you, I never stopped feeling like some part of me was missing."

And the monolithic _thing_ is gone, and Sirius can't really understand how Remus ended up in his arms, only that he did, and Sirius never wants to let him go. He feels _whole_ again, for the first time in thirteen years. He feels _right_.

"Never again, Moony," he murmurs. "I don't ever want to leave you ever again."

"Don't you dare," Remus murmurs in return. "Don't you dare go anywhere without me again."

And maybe the memories all taste bittersweet, but now, from this moment on, they can make new memories, memories that don't have to taste bitter, just sweet.


End file.
